


Want and Denial

by The Big Roman (Hammocker)



Series: A World of One Color [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Christmas, Complicated Relationships, Gift Giving, M/M, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-02-19 07:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13118997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/The%20Big%20Roman
Summary: Jason had put some thought into this, even if with everything Roman had put him through. Roman wasn't sure what to make of it.





	1. Chapter 1

If Roman had known how Jason would act in the weeks after the party, then he would have been more careful to play dumb.

And all because of Jason’s little slip-up. Roman hadn’t even been trying to get anything out of him; it had just come out. How the kid wasn’t long dead was anyone’s guess.

So the past few weeks had seen a lot of groveling on Jason’s part. Roman gave an order and Jason followed through. No questions, barely any backtalk, and absolutely no fire. Fucking him was less interesting than usual. Sometimes he wondered if he was fucking Jason at all when he was on his stomach, being quiet with no real push needed. He was just so damn _passive_. Like he was scared. It was getting annoying.

Yeah, Jason made a tactical error. Roman worked out that Bruce Wayne was both Batman and Jason’s adopted daddy. What did Jason think he was gonna do? Send assassins after Wayne? Bomb Wayne Manor? No. That was not how these things worked. Maybe to some street maniac like Joker or Two-Face that’s how it was, but Roman knew better. Going for Wayne’s throat right away was suicide. The best thing he could do was undermine Wayne’s assets while implicating himself as little as possible.

Besides, when he wasn’t targeting Black Mask, Batman had a habit of squashing Roman’s competition. And Jason was bound to stay far, far away from Roman if he tried anything big. He couldn’t have that. Jason had turned out to be quite the investment.

Speak of the Devil - though Jason looked like anything but - he’d just slunk into Roman’s office by the sounds of it. Roman glanced up from his earnings reports at him. The kid’s shoulders were low, his eyes were dull, and Roman would have sworn that he’d lost some weight. It was just pathetic. At least he was carrying the ledgers from Penguin and- something else. A box, wrapped up in paper. Strange, but it could wait.

Jason placed the ledgers in front of him, but he didn’t say anything. Fucking hell, something had to be done.

“Where have you been?” Roman asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing one arm over the other.

“Doing what you told me to?” Jason asked, and it was a question. A goddamn question.

“You sure about that?”

Jason’s expression only tightened with even more uncertainty. “Ye-”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re sure,” Roman cut in. “It’s not like you, Jason.”

Jason shrugged, but his eyes kept shifting off to the side. “Maybe you taught me a little too well.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Roman’s phantom lips. It still wasn’t right, but it was something.

“Maybe. So, how’s the Bat doing?”

Jason looked at him then, one eye twitching. It might have cute, if it hadn’t been so damn annoying.

“I asked you a question,” Roman said, after a long stretch of silence of Jason just standing there, completely frozen in place.

“Dunno,” he replied at last, shrugging one shoulder. “I don’t talk to him anymore, thought I told you that.”

“Did you now?” Roman asked, thrumming his fingers. “Must have missed that one. Easy to think you do, seeing how he’s on your mind.”

Jason’s jaw tensed.

“I don’t-”

Roman stood sharply and slammed one hand on his desk. Jason startled, but kept his ground. Roman was almost impressed.

“Don’t lie to me!” Roman shouted. “You got any idea how fuckin’ transparent you are? You think I’m dumb?!”

Jason shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

“What are you scared of, Jason? Scared I’ll hurt your Bat?” Roman paused before continuing in an especially cruel tone. “Or maybe your brothers?”

“Don’t you dare!” Jason finally fired back, voice cracking on the last syllable.

Roman stared at him for a long moment, feeling that smile again. But Jason didn’t know that. His eyes went wide as he realized what he’d done.

“I’ll- I’ll do what you want, just don’t- please-” Jason’s voice was completely broken then. Roman almost wanted to pat him on the head, but it still erred too much on the side of pathetic for his liking.

Roman clicked his tongue and sat back down. “And you were doing so well.”

Jason blinked twice at him, mouth hanging ajar.

“What?” he choked out.

“You don’t know how this works, do you, Jason?”

“How- what?”

“Didn’t think so.” Roman leaned forward to look Jason right in the eye. “Quit worrying. You don’t need to, your performance is down, and I’m sick and tired of watching you mope like a dying dog.”

Jason’s mouth only got wider and Roman was tempted to stick his dick in it.

“I- I’m not moping,” Jason insisted, bouncing back to a more confident tone.

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

“Well, maybe if you’d said something in the first place, then we wouldn’t have had this problem.”

“I’m not the one who couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

Jason opened his mouth to argue again, but quickly shut it. Finally. Jason wasn’t the brightest bulb, no, but he did learn eventually.

“So what’s that for?” Roman gestured to the box, changing the subject so quickly that Jason was left gaping for a moment before he glanced down at it.

“That’s for- you.”

Roman stared at the box for a moment before looking back at Jason. “‘Scuse me?”

“It’s a gift. You know. Since Christmas is the day after tomorrow.” At least Jason had the good grace to flush a bit with embarrassment.

Well, that was troubling. Roman wasn’t sure what to make of it, and he definitely wasn’t sure if he wanted to. He sighed and moved to pinch the bridge of his nose before thinking better of it.

“What do you want?” he finally asked, and something changed in Jason’s expression. He no longer looked nervous, but instead almost hopeful.

“Well. I was gonna ask if I could have the next few days off.” Jason swallowed. “Nothing to do with the present,” he added.

“That so?” Roman leaned back, watching Jason’s expression carefully. He wondered briefly if he should let him stew for a while. It was fun to watch him sweat, but finally he just gave another sigh. “You wanna take time, be my guest. Take a week, for all I care. Better help than you throws itself at my feet daily.”

And then Jason grinned.

“Yeah. But you love a good struggle, don’t you, old man?”

 _There_ was Jason. And oh, was he asking for it. Roman didn’t know what to say; he just watched Jason like he hadn’t seen him for weeks, and in a way he hadn’t. It was almost enough to make his cock swell a little, but instead he was caught thinking of other things entirely. He shook his head.

“Go. Before I change my mind.”

“If you insist,” Jason said, giving a shake of his head before turning to head for the door. Before he could leave, though, he called back with far too much genuine cheer, “Merry Christmas!”

And with that Jason walked out the door and shut it behind him. Damn brat.

Roman supposed he wasn’t meant to open the gift until the 25th. He had to wonder if the kid had help putting it together. It was wrapped pretty nicely, in desaturated red and green. But what did he care about any of that?

He went for the taped ends first, preferring to unfold where Jason had folded, but not above making a tear here and there. It didn’t take long at all to uncover the plain white box underneath, about the size of a toaster oven. He pulled the top off and set it aside, and balked at what he found inside.

It was a scarf. A banded brown and gold scarf. Was Jason pulling some kind of joke? He had to be.

Then again, Roman had mentioned that he didn’t like the cold. Maybe that was a mistake in hindsight. The scarf was too _nice_ to be a joke. It was wool, that much was obvious, but even with his gloves on, Roman could tell it wasn’t cheap wool. The brown wasn’t just a brown; no, it was rich, but not too bright, like chocolate. The red was muted to match it, almost blending into the color of dried blood where colors met. It would have worked just fine with any of Roman’s winter outfits. That is, it would have, if he wore scarves.

Jason had put some thought into it. He hadn’t just gone out and bought something overpriced in the hopes of appeasing Roman into leaving his family alone. No, he got this _for_ Roman. That came with a lot of implications, implications that had never been part of the unspoken contract between them.

Roman pulled off one of his gloves, and thumbed over the scarf. The scratch of knitted wool was there, but beneath that was a particular softness. The kind that made him want to keep petting it beyond any reasonable limit.

On that thought, Roman opened one of his vacant drawers and shoved the scarf inside. Out of sight, out of mind.

Roman put his glove back on and swept the remaining box off of his desk. He still had books to look over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I can't help myself, riddle me this: is Roman Sionis in Africa?


	2. Chapter 2

Jason flopped down on his old bed, sighing with relief. He’d been back at Wayne Manor since the day before on Bruce’s request, or, more aptly, his demands. Not to say Jason minded. It was kind of nice, catching up with Dick and Tim and Alfred and what was going on with them. It was a little weird, hearing stories, but having to pick and choose what to say himself. Weird, but not terrible. At least nobody pried too much. The worst was Tim asking how he’d managed to get Black Mask to give him time off.

Jason had just shrugged and said, “I asked him nicely.”

It wasn’t even a lie, but Tim had laughed and left it alone.

Seeing them all again was nice, but tiring. They’d already exchanged gifts when Jason finally decided that he needed to be alone for a while. He was still so exhausted from the weeks of scraping and groveling. What had he even been doing? He should have known that it wasn’t worth the effort. In the end, Roman just thought it was pathetic.

But even knowing that, Jason was still conflicted. It wasn’t a good idea to trust Roman to keep to himself, but, with options waning, it had gotten hard not to. Now that Roman knew, it was either appease him or kill him. Bruce wouldn’t like the latter, but it was the only way to be sure. It would have been easy enough to do. Roman let Jason sleep with him, so he would have just had to wait and-

Jason couldn’t finish that thought. Something about the idea made his stomach turn. He didn’t understand it; Jason had killed criminal after criminal before falling back in with Bruce. Roman wasn’t much different, so why did his chest tighten at the mere thought?

Shoving the thought away, Jason flipped over onto his stomach and rested his cheek against the pillow. He took in a deep breath and sighed, allowing his eyelids to droop. The bed smelled familiar and comforting. It had been way too long since Jason last slept here, no worries weighing him down. But, at the same time, the bed, and even the room, seemed empty and hollow, like it was missing something. Maybe Alfred had kept things a little too clean in his absence, but somehow Jason didn’t think that that was it.

He was glad to hear the door creak open, but didn’t bother to look up until he heard Tim call his name.

“Ja-ason!”

With a weak groan, Jason sat up on the edge of his bed only to find Tim standing in the doorway.

“Hey, kid,” he said, rubbing one eye. “What’s up?”

Tim rolled his eyes and tossed a box at Jason, who caught it by pure reflex.

“Found this on the doorstep earlier. Marked for you.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at the box. It was wrapped in silvery paper, with a subtle gradient of snowflakes running across it. Sure enough, there was a sticker on the top the simply declared “Jason Todd”. It wasn’t too big, just enough that he had to hold it with both hands. He swallowed at the sight of it. It couldn’t be.

“Don’t worry,” Tim piped up again. “I didn’t tell Bruce or anyone. And it’s not a bomb; I made sure.” 

“Yeah, giving out our address and getting explosives dropped on our doorstep, only me, right?” Jason asked, sarcastic and sober in a blend he hadn’t thought himself capable of.

“Well, come on, who’d actually believe that you ever lived with Bruce Wayne?” Tim laughed. “I’m just happy you’re making some friends outside of the mask.”

Jason resisted the urge the urge to sigh. He did his best to smile, but couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Lying to Bruce was one thing, but he wasn’t used to having to keep secrets from his little brother. Despite the animosity early in their relationship - animosity that had been entirely on Jason - they’d grown close in the time they’d had together. For whatever reason, Tim seemed to like and trust him, and would talk to him about anything. He _hated_ betraying that. Jason felt a pit growing in his stomach.

Tim was quick to take notice.

“You feeling alright, Jay?” he asked, walking over to sit down next to Jason. “Can I help?”

“No, no, I’m okay,” Jason said quickly, putting the gift aside. “Listen, I’m sorry I’m not as chatty as usual, it’s just-”

“No, no, no,” Tim cut in, shaking his head. “I don’t blame you, this is the only break you’ve had for a while. Gotta be stressful doing slave labor for the other team.”

“It’s not _slave_ labor,” Jason corrected without a thought. “Roman pays pretty well. Says that the carrot’s just as important as the stick.”

Tim was silent and when Jason focused on him again, he was squinting at Jason. For a moment, Jason wasn’t sure why. And then it hit him: he’d defended Roman without any hesitation. Hadn’t even thought to call him Black Mask.

“I mean, the stick is getting your head blown off, so can’t say any of his employees have their priorities straight.”

It took a second, but Tim smiled again and laughed.

“Well, you better not let that happen. Bruce is broody enough as it is, and guess who has to deal with it?” Tim let out a long groan and flopped back across the bed. “Sometimes I can really see why Dick skipped town.”

Jason leaned back himself to look down at Tim. “Sometimes I wonder why I ever came back.”

“Maybe, oh, I don’t know, it’s because you care?” Tim punched him on the bicep with no force behind it. “We all know you do, even if you don’t always see eye to eye with Bruce. I’m just glad you stopped being such a jerk about it.”

“Hey, I can still be a jerk. Just ask me to get Dick a gift.”

Tim snorted. “At least you and Bruce can agree that there’s nothing wrong with gift cards.”

Both of them laughed at that, for a long moment. That felt so good, like a much-needed release. Talking and joking with just Tim wasn’t something he’d ever done enough of. Not with the fighting, the gang wars, that invented rivalry, and all because Jason had been bitter and angry. God, he’d been awful.

When Tim didn’t speak up, Jason figured that he should.

“You wouldn’t mind playing lookout for me, would you?” Jason asked, sitting back against the headboard and letting his eyes droop. “An hour or two to myself would be great.”

“Yeah, kick me out, that’s fine,” Tim said, even as he smiled while getting to his feet. “Guess I better keep everyone else out too.”

Jason reached out to give him a quick, appreciative pat on the back. “Thanks, Tim, you’re the best.”

“Wouldn’t say that just yet.” Tim turned to walk sideways, still looking at Jason. “When your time’s up, I’m making sure you come back down and mingle.”

“You and what army?”

“Me, Dick, Alfred, Bruce,” Tim retorted, patting his chest. “Our army.”

Jason rolled his eyes and waved him away. “Yeah, fine, I’ll be back down, don’t worry.”

“Not worried at all,” Tim said before finally walking out and shutting the door behind himself.

With Tim gone at last, Jason’s attention turned to the box, but he hesitated to pick it up again. He didn’t want to believe the obvious truth of the matter: Roman had sent something his way. Jason had absolutely no idea what it was, but Tim was good at weapons sniffing so it couldn’t have been anything too dangerous. Whether or not it was dangerous for Jason’s sanity, though, was another question entirely.

Jason the box up again and laid back down on the bed. He settled it over his lap and gave it a light shake. Nothing much rattled inside. Jason thought he might have heard something papery, but the only way to know was to open it.

Jason dug his nails into the top of the box and tore a wide strip of paper away and shucked the rest of the wrapping easily. Inside was a plain white cardboard box that only made Jason even more uncertain about opening it. He knew exactly where it had come from, but what horrors truly awaited him?

Only one way to find out. Jason flipped the lid open and his breath caught in his throat. He had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Surely enough though, staring back at him was Roman’s mask

Or, it looked like Roman’s mask anyway. It could have been one of his standard goon masks and Jason’s memory was playing tricks on him. But he knew Roman’s mask. He knew the distinctive angular skull shape, the narrowed eyes with a compound pattern, the grin formed by the zipper that could be a smirk as much as a sneer. It could have been a duplicate, but how could he really be sure?

Jason had one idea.

Gingerly, Jason reached in and pulled the mask out with both hands. He turned it slowly, on its sides and back, and found that it had been stuffed with cloth to keep its shape. Jason stroked two fingers over the back of it, where it opened up. The leather was soft and supple for how menacing it always appeared. Jason had touched Roman all over, but he’d never had his hand on the mask for more than a minute.

Maybe it was insane, but Jason knew that it was the only way he could be sure that the mask was authentic. Sure enough, as he took in a breath of the mask’s scent, there was Roman’s, hidden in the leather. Anyone who hadn’t slept in Roman’s bed night after night wouldn’t have noticed it, but Jason could. He could have picked out Roman’s scent anywhere, that mixture that reminded him of glaze and cashmere and even burning. It was more than that, though; there was a certain humanness to it, encompassing all the other elements. He could only really describe it as Roman.

Yeah. It was Roman’s mask. So that begged the question: what was Roman wearing now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have put in more about that rest of Jason's time home, but I just don't think I'm at the point where I can competently write most of the Batfamily, especially if they're all together and all their relationships are in play. I just don't know all those ins and outs. I'm not even sure if Tim is written properly here. Anyone got recommendations for good comics that show off their family dynamics?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas bonus chapter, woo. Is it weird to edit in additional pieces in an already finished work? I thought about having this be a fic to itself, but that messed with continuity, so it's here now. I hope people can find it.

Jason made a point to stick around Wayne Manor for a while longer, even after getting Roman’s little gift. He’d stowed that away, and decided to focus on spending time with everyone. That much was nice. Mostly. Dick was still a goody two-shoes, but they got along better than they had in the past. He and Tim got along so well that Jason couldn’t believe they’d ever fought. Alfred was Alfred, same as ever. Sure, he tossed and turned most nights, but he had to take the time to make Bruce think that he wasn’t spending any more time on double agent than he needed to. That he didn’t really want to be around Roman, and it was all a ploy.

Jason shuddered as it hit him that, no, this- this thing between him and Roman wasn’t a ploy, not anymore. It was something frighteningly real that Jason didn’t want to pull back on.

But he really didn’t want to think too hard about that. Why should he? He still needed to siphon information from Roman anyway, so why not keep the relationship? At least for the time being.

Jason took in a deep breath and settled deeper into the sofa. He’d lit the main sitting room’s fireplace, and was enjoying the extra heat as it sparked and hissed. All that was missing was the presence of a certain extra body.

Jason groaned and flopped down across the sofa. He’d woken up not long ago from a less-than-restful sleep, and it wouldn’t be long before he had to go back to Roman again. Why couldn’t he just wait until then?

He missed it. That was all there was to it, plain and simple. He missed feeling like he belonged somewhere, the trust, and always having somewhere that he needed to be. Jason even missed being around Roman’s men. They weren’t all the brightest crayons in the box, but they’d always treated Jason as an equal. They were guys that he knew he could play Poker and bullshit with in their downtime.

More than anything, though, he missed Roman. Jason really missed Roman’s hands on him. The little touches here and there that reminded Jason who he belonged to really. Jason let his eyes shut as he thought about it. Roman’s hands on his back and his arms and his head. Oh, hell, when Roman scratched and rubbed at his head, that was something else. He couldn’t help but think of the last time he and Roman had sat in front of the fire together. Just the thought of it had Jason drifting off and melting into the couch.

“Haven’t seen you smile like that in ages.”

Jason started out of his trance and scrambled to sit up. Sure enough, Bruce was standing there next to fireplace. He was half-smiling down at Jason.

“Yeah, well-” Jason hesitated, mouth hanging open “You know how it’s been.”

Bruce nodded before turning to toss another log onto the fire, sending a crackle through the room and burned wood fell away beneath it. “Is it that nice just being- here?”

Something told Jason that he’d wanted to say “home”. Good call, Bruce. Jason couldn’t exactly call the manor home anymore, not really.

“Yeah,” he fibbed. “Yeah, I guess it is. Definitely nice to get a break at least.”

Bruce shut the fire guard again before meandering over to sit next to Jason.

“You don’t have to do what you’re doing, you know. There’s plenty of other things you could help with.”

“No. I’m more useful than I’ve been as a double agent.” Jason rolled his shoulders back so he could lean on the sofa’s arm. “I play a good bad guy, what can I say?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you do,” Bruce admitted before frowning and averting his eyes. “You were useful before- everything. You made a great Robin.”

Jason wrinkled his nose and turned over on his side. “Not great enough, apparently,”

Bruce sighed, and Jason couldn’t help a pang of guilt. He didn’t want to be even more of a pain about everything that had happened. He’d mostly buried the hatchet with Bruce, and he was trying to be better, but it was all still painful. Jason didn’t hate Bruce like he used to. He didn’t know how he felt about Bruce. All he knew was that he didn’t want to fight with him anymore.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve said that a lot, but that’s the truth. I should have given you the attention you deserved.”

Jason curled up into himself, unsure of what more he could say.

“Yeah. I know,” he finally settled on.

No surprise, Bruce didn't look any less worried.

“If you want to talk or if you need anything, anything at all, I’m here for you.” Bruce stood up, looking down at Jason again. “I can’t change the mistakes I’ve made, but I want to do the right thing for you now.”

Jason gave a noncommittal grunt. The more Bruce talked, the sicker he felt. He couldn’t pinpoint an exact reason for it, just the years upon years of baggage and regrets. No matter what he really wanted, Jason couldn’t stop having those awful feelings. Those feelings that Roman didn’t give him.

Jason wanted to bury his head in a pillow on that thought.

“I’ll be around for a couple more hours, okay?” Bruce said, coming around to put a hand on Jason’s shoulder.

Jason didn’t recoil from the touch like he might have just a year ago. At the same time, there wasn’t any comfort like there might have been when he was young. It was cold; nothing more, nothing less.

“Yeah,” Jason said, just as coldly.

Bruce hesitated, as though he wanted to say more, but before long, he made his way back out of the room. Once again, Jason was alone with his thoughts.

Jason sat up, keeping his legs up against his chest. On one hand, he felt like he should go after Bruce, and say- something. Anything that’d make all of this easier. He just couldn’t think of anything. Anything true, at least. Sure he could go to Bruce and lie through his teeth that they were okay now and they could be a happy family again just like that, but he knew that that would cause even more pain in the long run.

So he stayed where he was, and the longer Jason sat there, the more out of place he felt. Among the deep reds and browns of the room’s walls and carpets, the paintings, the smell that was _Wayne_. Jason wasn’t a Wayne. Not like Dick or Tim or even Alfred were. He felt so out of place, like he just didn’t belong there, no matter what Bruce said.

What scared him was where he felt like he did belong.


	4. Chapter 4

Jason couldn’t stay away for the week that Roman gave him. He just couldn’t focus on anything but that mask and the questions it raised. Investigating the cases that he was supposed to be working on became near-impossible. He had to have his answers. What Roman was wearing and why- well, why a lot of things. It was like a magnet, pulling him back to Roman’s place.

As soon as he got in, Jason made a beeline for Roman’s penthouse, figuring that he’d be there by this hour. He might have heard a quick “Hey, Hood” from one of Roman’s lackeys on his way, but he didn’t see who said it. It didn’t even occur to him to stop. He just wanted to see Roman again.

The elevator ride up was hell. Jason had to put in effort just to keep his heart from pounding too hard. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was nervous really. He’d done this same thing enough times. It was a little different, knowing that Roman might not look the way Jason was used to, but it wasn’t that bad. Or maybe he was excited. It shouldn’t have been so hard to tell.

The doors slid open all-too-slowly, but Jason forced himself to walk out into Roman’s living space with some dignity. The first thing that stood out was the light. Roman usually kept his apartment bright with almost all the lights on, overhead or floor-mounted and everything in between. Now, it was dark and moody, only a wall lamp leading into the dining room turned on. The moonlight was enough to see just fine, but it was strange.

Jason took off his mask, jacket and shoes first thing. It was always easier to just have them all off, should the night make a turn towards the frisky. He glanced around, from the fireplace sitting area down to the dining table in the back. Roman was nowhere to be seen, but he had to be there. Unless he had something else to take care of, Roman was always winding down by midnight. Jason couldn’t imagine anything more terrifying than a sleep-deprived Black Mask.

So Jason ventured further in, cautious, as though he was venturing into the cave of a wild beast. It would have been nice if Roman was already in bed; that way, Jason could have just crawled in next to him and dealt with everything in the morning. Jason didn’t think he’d ever slept so well and so often at night before he and Roman had started their little affair. He’d always thought of himself as a creature of the night, but, when it happened, it was so nice to wake up to morning sun.

But no, Roman wasn’t in bed. Once Jason reached the dining area, he spotted Roman’s dark figure off to the left. Roman was standing there, back turned to Jason as he stared out the window. Jason couldn’t see his face just yet, but it looked like he was wearing a mask. Almost. Jason knew about what had happened, about Roman’s face being branded and fused with his titular black mask. He just hadn’t imagined it looking like- that. That particular texture or color or shape. Seeing it in person wasn’t like the mugshots or photos from years gone by.

“How’s your lady doing?” Jason asked, doing his best to speak and move casually. He stopped approaching at about five feet away from Roman.

“No different,” Roman said, an apathy in his voice that stood out from his usual indifference.

With that, Roman turned to look at Jason, and Jason’s breath caught in his throat. He’d known what to expect, but the reality still struck him.

It was just so- eerie. Nothing on Roman’s face moved. In fact, there wasn’t much on his face that could move. No lips, no nose, and everything else seemed plastered over with a leathery, black substance. All that Roman had was his eyes, but that was enough. They were a deep red and sharp as a hawk’s. Jason felt watched, more than he’d ever felt with Roman before.

“You came back,” Roman said, no emotion betrayed in his voice.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. “‘course I did, why wouldn’t I?

He had his answer now: nothing. Roman’s face was on full display, no more masks. It shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it did. It wasn’t like it was his first time seeing it, not really. It was only the first time that Roman was letting him see it.

A long, uncomfortable stretch of silence passed over them. Roman seemed like he was expecting something, but, the longer he waited, the thinner his patience grew, and the more his eyes seemed to narrow.

“What’re you looking at?” Roman spat at him.

Jason started before forcing a smirk. “Well, I never realized you were so- photogenic.”

Roman rolled his eyes, and Jason didn’t dare wonder how many times he’d done that while his face had been hidden. “Take it you got my little token then.”

“Yeah. You weren’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“Wasn’t I?” Roman asked, tilting his head just so. “Daddy Bat have some stern words for you?”

“The only one who’s been stern with me lately is you.” Jason hesitated before adding. “‘Cause you’re the only daddy I have.”

Roman didn’t speak, didn’t move, but Jason could swear that something about his eyes changed. Softened, even. It was so difficult to say. Somehow, Roman’s face was even harder to read without the mask.

With no fanfare, Roman brushed past Jason and headed leisurely for his bedroom. He didn’t gesture for Jason to follow or leave, so Jason took it upon himself to trail after Roman. There were still unasked questions after all.

“So, I gotta ask: why the extra mask when you already have one burned into your face?”

“Intimidation,” Roman replied, a little too easily.

“What?” Jason wrinkled his brow. “The black skull face and red eyes weren’t intimidating enough?”

Roman sniffed and something about it struck Jason as approval. He really shouldn’t have been able understand subtle things like that.

“Smart boy.” Roman paused. “Hypertension.” 

The direct praise gave Jason pause. It wasn’t unheard of, but Roman usually went the backhanded route. And again, the answer came a little too easily.

“What?” he repeated.

“Doctors kept telling me I was on a fast track to cardiac failure if I didn’t watch the outbursts.”

Again, Jason’s scrunched his expression in disbelief. “The mask is anger management?”

“Among other things,” Roman said. “Took some pills for a while.”

“That- doesn’t make any sense,” Jason said, and Roman gave a breath that sounded like a laugh.

“Could have it wrong.” Roman waved him off. “Maybe it was for something else completely.” 

“So, that’s it? You just wear it for your health?”

“You want me to go to my grave early, Jason?” Roman asked, turning around and fixing him in his gaze. “That why you’re such a pain in my ass?”

“Well.” Jason faltered and looked away from Roman’s eyes for a split second. “I might have had an inkling about pushing you off your balcony.”

“Try it, kid. My assets fall to you, and something tells me you’d get nailed on tax evasion in a week.”

“Yeah, you’re just always one step ahead, aren’t you?”

“ _One_ step?” Roman shook his head and turned back around, pushing the bedroom door in. “What the hell do you take me for?”

On some sick compulsion, Jason found himself following after Roman still. The light was dimmed, but the scent of the bedroom hit him like a truck. It was that same scent of glaze and humanity from Roman’s mask. The room smelled clean, but, at the same time, overwhelmed by _Roman_. It was like coming home. That should have been a bad thing.

Roman shed his jacket first thing, taking care to keep it straight and unwrinkled. He made for his closet next, giving Jason time to let his eyes adjust fully.

He wandered over to his side of the bed out of habit, waiting on Roman to lay down first. From there, Jason spotted a foreign, white bottle on Roman’s bedside table. Some kind of eye drops, by the looks of it. Jason paused for a moment. Maybe that was Roman’s secret then. Wearing the mask to protect his eyes. Jason knew he hadn't seen Roman blink properly even once. The thought was- Jason wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Roman suddenly seemed human. Far more than he ever had in the past, and somehow that scared Jason more than anything else.

When Jason looked back up, Roman had already shed his the rest of his suit, and was slipping on his night clothes. Jason only got a short look at Roman’s back side, but he found himself staring. Roman wasn’t a big guy, by any means, but he was fit. Fit enough that he had to be on some kind of exercise regime anyway. The small tease alone left Jason wishing that Roman would take off more clothes when they fucked.

“So. You’re not self-conscious then?” Jason asked as Roman turned and approached the bed.

Roman gave him one of his looks, and Jason felt stupid right away. How did he do that?

“That’s kinda what I assumed,” Jason continued, digging his own grave even deeper. “Seeing as you told me that I was never gonna see you out of the mask.”

Roman leaned forward, his glare only getting nastier. “Would I be standing here showing off my mug if I was?”

From the way Roman said it, the conversation was over. Jason stood up straight, but dipped his head.

“No, sir.”

Roman kept up the evil eye for a moment longer before finally pulling the blankets back and settling down in bed.

“I take it you’re staying the night.”

That wasn’t a question or a request; that was a demand. Jason breathed a silent sigh of relief. He was off the hook for the time being.

“Little late to do anything else,” Jason said, crawling in next to Roman and edging up against him.

“Then you’d better make yourself useful tomorrow.” Roman kept talking even as he slipped an arm around Jason. “Had a break-in while you were off. Burglar, but not a very good one. Broke a damn window stealing inventory, and-”

Jason zoned out as Roman kept on his spiel. He’d be debriefed more thoroughly in the morning, so the information didn’t matter too much. What did matter was how good it felt to be back in Roman’s bed. Jason had fought with himself to get a decent night’s sleep while he’d been staying at the manor. Now, with Roman’s scent and grip around him, he could barely keep his eyes open.

He’d been wrong, then. _This_ was the scariest thing of all. This feeling of total safety in Roman’s presence. As he let his eyes close for the night, Jason swore that he felt fingers thread through his hair, petting his scalp. It was enough to push him into a restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as no one seems to have even given me a pity "I don't know, is Roman Sionis in Africa?" I'll just give the answer to the first chapter's question here. Roman is in Africa. He is, in fact, in da Nile.
> 
> I'll leave now.


End file.
